The Hunger Games: Rewritten
by Writer'sRain
Summary: What if Katniss loved Peeta back, but it was before the Games? This is my adaptation of what would happen in The Hunger Games if Katniss loved Peeta, too. Please read the author's note before reading to avoid confusion!
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Hello! And thank you for choosing to read my story! _Please read this if you don't want to be confused_! This is just like The Hunger Games, but with a twist. What if Katniss loved Peeta back before the Games? I wrote this based off this question, but the more I wrote, the more OOC she seemed. So I changed her up a bit, but not too much. I changed her hair color, name, and just a bit of her personality, though you can barely notice it. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy! :) Also, thank you so much to my friends that have been supporting me!  
DISCLAIMER:And of course, I own NOTHING of this amazing story, all of it's ownership is held by the wonderful Suzanne Collins**

I slowly stretched my limbs. They ached from my tense state, curled hopelessly into a ball trying to keep the cold of the night away. I reached my arm towards the other side of the bed, seeking my little sister's warmth. Instead I found nothing but the cold rough sheets.

I opened my eyes slowly, grimacing at the too bright sunlight. I found my sister Prim, curled up next to my mother. She was cocooned in between her arms, looking as if she was seeking protection. Of course, she was. It was reaping day.

I got up and re-braided my almost brown blonde hair and put on my hunting clothes. I pulled my soft leather boots on that formed to my feet. I walked over to their bed, careful not to wake them, and kissed Prim's forehead. Her face was so peaceful when she slept, as beautiful as the flower she was named for. My mother's face also looked relaxed and beautiful. It was still a bit worn down and beaten, but a lot less as it was in the day.

I put on my hunting jacket and game bag. On the kitchen table, wrapped in basil leaves to keep away rats and bugs, was a small goat cheese. Prim's gift to me for reaping day. I grabbed the cheese and put it in my game bag.

As I was walking out the door, I heard a hiss. I looked over to see Buttercup, Prim's mangy, mustard colored cat. I had never really liked him, but Prim cried and begged so much, I had to let him stay. I was OK when it came to cats, but at the time he was just another mouth to feed. He's been sour towards me ever since he got here; I guess he remembers the time I tried to drown him. He was a real pitiful sight though, and I didn't think he would make it the first week.

The walk to the woods wasn't far. I lived in the part of the Seam where you were a few minutes from the Meadow. Past that was an electrified fence, but since we were lucky enough to have two or three hours of electricity in the afternoon it was usually never electrified. Still, I stopped and listened for the charged hum that meant it was on. It was dead as always, so I slipped through the small hole at the bottom of the fence. It had been there for as long as I could remember. My father had shown it to me when I was little, and then eventually got me to go under. Everything after that was just him teaching me to hunt, before he was blown up in a mine.

I grabbed my bow and a sheath of arrows in the hollow of a tree. My father had made a handful of them but never sold them. It was better that way though, if he was caught selling them he would've been publicly executed for provoking a rebellion. After he died I hid them in a few places around the woods in waterproof covers. I couldn't let them get damaged in any way; these were what decided life or death.

I felt the muscles in my face relax the further I walked. The thought of Gale made me quicken my pace. He always said I only smile in the woods. He had been my hunting partner since I was a scrawny twelve-year-old. Ever since I was about five, I learned how to mask my emotions. Before that I would always blurt out things about Panem or the Capitol that was anything but flattering. It scared my mother to death, so I eventually learned to put on a mask and keep my mouth shut. I mean, I couldn't have Prim repeating what I said, and punishment was not an option. The whipping would be harsh, especially if it was due to provoking a rebellion. They wouldn't have punished me since I was so young, but if I still said those kinds of things now, they wouldn't think twice about it.

But in the woods, I could say whatever I wanted. I still don't say anything as outright as I did when I was younger, but I wasn't reluctant to actually have a real conversation with someone. And usually that person was Gale.

He was the one that would scream and rant about the Capitol while in the woods, though. It scared off game, but it was better he do it there than back in 12, so I let him do it.

I climbed the hill to our meeting place, a space between two rocks fitted on a ledge overlooking a valley. It concealed us but let us see almost everything. When I got there, Gale turned to me and smiled, "Hey, Clay."

I rolled my eyes. The first time we met I was so scared and scrawny compared to him. He scared me with his size, so I said my name in a barely audible whisper. He thought I said Clay, and I corrected him, saying it was Bay, but one day I had gotten myself stuck ankle deep in clay after days of heavy rain. It took him hours to find me, and the nickname stuck ever since.

"Hey Gale," I replied, seating myself next to him.

"Look what I caught," he held up an arrow with a loaf of bread stuck on the end.

I laughed and grabbed it from him. I pulled out the arrow and sniffed where the puncture was. I sighed; it was real bakery bread, and not the stale, dense loaves we made from tesserae grain.

"How much was it?"

"Just a squirrel," he said, grabbing the bread and splitting it in half.

We feasted on the bread with melted goat cheese on it and ripe blueberries. The day was beautiful despite the events that were going to take place. The sky was a pale blue through the gathering grey clouds, the birds chirped all around us, and the fish glittered in the few rays of sunlight. I knew the clouds would turn into a storm sometime today, but it would be after the reaping and would also increase the chances of a good harvesting when we picked the strawberries.

We fished and gathered greens the rest of the time in the woods. We ended up with eight fish and a gallon of strawberries. We traded half of the fish for things like string and salt in the Hob. We then walked to the mayor's mansion. He had a passion for strawberries, so this was always the first place we went to trade when we had strawberries. We knocked on the back door and Madge answered. She was the mayor's daughter and in my year in school. I guess you could say we were friends; she would always sit by me at lunch. And although we never talked, it was nice having company.

"Hello Bay," she said when she opened the door.

"Hi Madge."

We gave her the strawberries and she paid us.

"Thanks," she said.

I nodded.

"Nice pin," Gale said. I looked at what he was talking about. It was a pin with a small bird. It was made with real gold, and enough to feed a family for months. It was fitted on her beige dress. She also had her hair done up in a matching bow.

"Well, if I'm going to the Capitol I want to look pretty, don't I," she replied.

"You're not going to the Capitol," he snapped. "What do you have, five entries? I had six entries my first year."

"Gale," I snapped.

He looked at me, "Well, it's true."

I sighed. "See you at the reapings Madge."

"You, too. Good luck Bay."

We walked back to the Seam. Gale was fuming, and I knew why. He was upset at the system. The less fortunate always had more entries that the more fortunate. I didn't like it either, but it was just the way it was.

As we were walking, I felt like somebody was watching me. I looked behind me and saw Peeta Mellark, the youngest of the baker's sons, watching me. His eyes quickly flitted away. He picked up the bags of flour and walked the other way. I looked ahead of me. That was…strange. Peeta Mellark was staring at me. It had happened before, but I never blushed this much about it. It was so strange for me to do things like that. I was never one to blush, never. But I knew the reason why it was happening. I was in love with him. I shivered at the word. It was a concept that I tried to stay away from. I've never wanted to get married or have kids, but I couldn't help it. It had just….happened.

"What's up with you?"

I looked up to see Gale, looking at me weird.

"Ever heard of a sun burn?" I said harshly.

I immediately regretted it, but I figured it was payback for what he had said to Madge.

We got to the Seam and split the rest of the food up. We each got two fish, a quart of strawberries, some greens, and a bit of money.

When I got home, mother had a tub of hot water for me. I thanked her for it, even though it was hard. After my dad had died, she went into a deep depression, not doing anything but stare into the distance for hours. Sometimes she would stir, but only to seem confused and just lay back down. No amount of pleading from Prim would make her stir. After that, I had to take over as caretaker. She eventually came back to us, slowly but surely. But our relationship was never the same. I've held a grudge against her for leaving us in our worst state. I would never accept things from her.

I washed the grit from my fingernails and washed myself, getting rid of the dirt and sweat. I even washed my hair. When I got out, my mom gave me one of her dresses from her apothecary days to wear.

"Are you sure," I asked

"Of course," she replied. She helped me put it on. It was a light blue dress with a collar. It was soft and comfortable, and had shoes to match.

"Let's do your hair, too."

I was reluctant but agreed. She braided my hair then put it in an intricate little bun.

"You look beautiful," Prim said from behind me.

I turned to Prim "Not as beautiful as you," I replied. She was wearing my first reaping outfit, a blouse and skirt. It didn't fit her as well, and the back of the blouse was untucked. "But let's tuck that tail in little duck," I said, kneeling down and tucking the back of the blouse into the skirt.

She shook her butt and gave a, "Quack!"

I laughed a laugh only she could draw out of me.

We walked to the town center. That's where the reaping was held. It was mandatory to attend; Peacekeepers would go around house to house making sure everyone had gone, and unless you were on death's bed, you were punished. It was also a good way for the Capitol to get a census. We checked in and I led Prim to the roped off area for twelve-year-olds then walked to the area for the sixteen-year-olds. We grimly nodded to each other. There was an eerie atmosphere. But there were cameras perched on the market's rooftops like buzzards and two kids were about to be given death sentences, so it didn't surprise me.

The stage holds three chairs, a podium, and two large glass bowls. One for the boys, the other for the girls. Only two of the three seats are filled, one by Madge's father, Mayor Undersee, and the other by Effie Trinket, the District 12 escort. The third is supposed to be filled by Haymitch Abernathy, the only living District 12 victor. There have only been two victors of District 12 in the history of the Games.

When the clock strikes two, the mayor steps up to the podium. He tells about the history of Panem. How in a place once known as North America, Panem rose up from the ashes of war and natural disasters. It was a shining Capitol with 13 districts. But then the Dark Days came, a time where the districts rebelled against the Capitol. The Capitol won the war, District 13 was destroyed, and in penance for the uprising, the Hunger Games was created. Each district gave up one male and female tribute to participate in a fight to the death on national television. The victor's district would then be showered in money and food and the victor would have endless money for the rest of their lives.

After that he read the Treaty of Treason, and lists the names of the District 12 victors. Almost on cue, Haymitch appears on stage, drunk and hollering something unintelligible. We applaud, but he looks confused and tries to give Effie a big hug. She manages to push him off, but slightly shifting her pink curled wig in the process. I sigh; District 12 is definitely the laughingstock of Panem now.

The mayor quickly introduces Effie Trinket, trying to divert the attention away from Haymitch.

She trots up to the podium and happily gives her signature, "Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor!"

She rolls up one of her brightly colored sleeves and announces, "Ladies first!"

She trots over to one of the glass bowls, digs deep into the bowl, and then trots back over to the microphone.

The name she says knocks the breath out of me. I feel nothing anymore, and watch my life flash before my eyes. I even think I fall, only to be caught by one of the boys from the Seam.

It's Primrose Trayvark.

**Gasp! Haha, I bet you guys saw that coming though! I will be uploading a new chapter every Monday and Friday, or for some people it will be your Tuesday and Saturday. Please review and I'm open for any kind of helpful criticism! Thank you! :)**

**~Writer'sRain**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: I'm sosososososo sorry for the late upload! I was halfway through this chapter when I had family matter to attend to, so I didn't get to finish it. But I managed to finish it today, so here it is! I will have the next chapter uploaded on schedule. I do realize there were 3 missing words in the last chapter, and I am trying to fix it. Thank you for all of the reviews and reads! I love you guys! **

**Disclaimer: I obviously do not own the awesomeness of The Hunger Games, the lovely Suzanne Collins owns every bit of it.**

You know those feelings you get, when you fall from a height and the moment of impact seems to leave you with no trace of air. You lie there shocked, wide-eyed and gasping for breath, but your lungs won't respond.

This is how I felt at this exact moment. I wanted to sprint to Prim, whisk her away from all this, but I seemed to lose all motor functions. Finally, I croak out, "Prim." This seems to bring me back to reality, the sound of my voice. I move my arm. "Prim," I say louder this time. I start walking toward her, and all the sixteen-year-olds make way the second I start moving. I start running toward her, barely cutting her off before she starts climbing the stairs to the stage.

"I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute!"

There's a collective breath.

Effie looks taken aback but still gives a smile. "Well, it seems we have a volunteer! But I think there's the matter of first introducing the tribute, and then asking for volunteers, and then…um…-"

"What does it matter," a voice says. I look up to see the mayor, watching me with sad eyes. Does he recognize me? Does he remember the little girl he presented the medal to after her father was blown to bits, recognize the girl who brings him strawberries? He must, because it takes him a second time to say what he was going to say. "What does it matter? She's already volunteered. Let her."

Prim is clinging to my arm, screaming. "Bay, you can't do this! No! No!"

It's taking me all I am to keep from crying. "Prim let go," I say in a fighting voice

"Let go!"

She's being lifted, and I turn around to see who it is. Gale.

"Up you go, Bay," he says in a strangled voice.

I swallow hard, compose myself, and walk up the steps. Effie's struggling to keep everything running smooth, and is smiling a smile so fake at this point it looks like she's grimacing. "What's your name dearie?"

I look at the faces in the crowd. I can't tell what they're thinking. Some look sad, some look terrified. Even the gamblers that go around placing bets on who's getting reaped are silent. It's strange, almost like they feel sympathetic for me.

"Bay Trayvark."

"I bet my buttons that was your sister! Wouldn't want her to take the spotlight, would you?"

I feel sick. That wasn't even close to why I volunteered. But it doesn't matter. She's already saying something else, and I'm barely listening.

"Let's have a round of applause for our first District 12 tribute!"

Silence. Nobody applauds, nobody cheers. It's the best act of defiance they can do. It says we do not condone, this is wrong. And we do not agree with it. Instead, one by one, each of them raises their three middle fingers. It's a sign rarely used in 12, it means thanks, admiration, goodbye to someone you love. This makes me almost cry, but instead I just allow a small, strangled sound to be released, and then compose myself again.

Effie clears her throat, "Well, now for the boys."

She clicks over to the opposite bowl, and I don't even have enough time to hope it's not Gale, when the name's already being announced.

"Peeta Mellark."

My stomach drops. My blood turns cold_. Oh no, not him. Please, not him!_ Do not cry, do NOT cry! I look into the crowd. Peeta's slowly walking to the stage, tears in his eyes. He has two older brothers, I know that. I never learned their names, but I've seen them before in the bakery. One's probably too old to volunteer, the other one not willing. Family bonds only go so far in the Games. _Do something_, I think. _Volunteer, somebody! Don't do this!_

He's made his way up to the stage and Effie asks for volunteers. I grimace at how quiet it is when she asks this_. No, please._

"Well, it seems we have our District 12 tributes! Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be _ever_ in your favor!"

She steps back to let us shake hands. I look at him. His blond hair is slicked back, shirt tucked into his khaki pants. He would look handsome if it weren't for the fact that he was now my enemy. Now all I see when I look at him is hopelessness. I feel a lump in my throat, and it's painful keeping it back. I Look at my hand to ensure I won't cry, but when we're about to release hands, he gives a squeeze. I jerk my head up. Was it from nerves, or did he do that to reassure me?

I can't think straight, and the Peacekeepers are whisking me off to the Justice Building.

I run my hand over the soft purple velvet. I watch it absentmindedly, making long trails of a darker purple, then running it back the other direction, returning the color back to its original shade. It's strange, how my life is like this piece of velvet. It was normal, fine and untouched. Then came another force, and in one moment, it was completely changed, made darker.

I'm distracted, so much so the Peacekeeper has to tell me a visitor walked in.

I jerk my head up. It's the baker, Peeta's father.

He sits down quietly. We sit there in silence. His isn't a man of many words, I'll tell you that. It makes me wonder how he ended up with his wife. She's a witch, sometimes her kids would come to school with bruises, no doubt from her doing. He clears his throat.

"I, um, brought you this."

He pulls out a small box and hands it to me. I mechanically leaned forward and took the box from the baker's hands, mind somewhere else. "They're, um, cookies."

Oh, wow. This is something my family could never afford, even after a good hunting day. Why was he giving me this? I was going to kill his son in a matter of time; I in no way deserved this. Well, I hope I don't have to kill him. I didn't want to be rude and just sit there after he had given me such an extraordinary gift, so I cleared my throat and spoke up. "Some cloudy sky, huh?"

This seemed to trigger something inside him, because for the first time I've seen him, he smiled.

He chuckled, got up, kissed my forehead and then patted my shoulder. "I'll make sure the little girl's eating."

Some little knot of tension releases inside of me. His words ensure a safety I would never be able to give Prim on any other day. I swallow and manage to croak something out. "Thank you."

He walks out the door, leaving me some time to put myself back together before another visitor comes. Why would he visit me? Has he already talked to Peeta? Will he even visit him?

Madge storms through the door.

"Take my pin," she says. She seems in a rush. "What? Why? I can't do that." I answer

She put the pin in my hand and answered, "They let you wear one thing into the arena as your token from your district. Will you wear it?"

I nod. "OK," She gives me a peck on the cheek, tells me, "Good luck Bay," and leaves.

I look down at the pin. It shimmers in the few rays of light that shines through the clouds. I take a better look at the bird. It's a Mockingjay, a slap in the face to the Capitol. It's in mid-flight, barely hanging on with the tips of its wings to the circle that contains it. There's an arrow in its mouth stretching from one edge of the circle to the other.

The door creaks open and I looked up.

"Gale."

He steps forward with his arms open and I practically jump into them. I rest my head in the crook of his neck, wishing I could feel this safe forever. "You're going to be fine," he whispers. I nod, fighting tears, and answer in a whisper, "It's just so unfair."

He grips me tighter, seeming like he wasn't ever going to let go. He must know what I'm going through. We know each other so well it's scary. He pulls back but still holds onto my arms.

"You need to get your hands on a bow," he says firmly

"They don't always have one-"

"Then make one. You're strong Bay, you can hunt."

I look down at my shoes. "A-animals…"

"There's not a difference."

"Yes, there is!"

"Not out there Bay."

I bite my lip and think about it. He's right, but you still can't help but think afterwards if they had a family, a girlfriend or boyfriend, or in my case, a sibling that needed them to come home.

A Peacekeeper marches in, stating firmly, "You have time for one more visitor, Miss Trayvark."

I hug Gale, "Don't let them starve!"

The Peacekeeper starts dragging him out, giving Gale enough time to say, "You know I won't! Remember, I-"and then the door slams close, leaving me standing there like a waiting duck.

I drag myself over to the couch and wait for my family to come in. Why me, why Peeta, why Prim? Damn the system. Damn the Games. Damn the Capitol. Damn them all to the deepest pits of Hell.

Prim burst through the door and climbs into my lap, wrapping her arms around my neck and burying her face into my neck. I held her and let her cry a little bit. After she was done, she sat up and told me, "You have to win Bay."

"Prim,-"

"You have to Bay! Please."

I nodded. "I'll try."

She shook her head. "No, promise me you'll try."

"I promise," I say. I smile and kiss her forehead. She must know I don't stand a chance, doesn't she? There are people who have trained their whole lives to be in the Games. No, win the Games.

I move her off my lap and stood in front of my mother.

"You can't leave, mom. She needs you; after I'm gone you're all she has."

"I was sick last time Bay, I-"

"Then take some medicine, something! You can't leave her, promise me you won't."

She nods, "I promise."

I pull her into a hug. As much as I hate her for leaving us, she's my mom. Her and Prim are my only family, and even that is being taken away from me. Prim comes over to us and joins us, and we sit there, hugging, until the Peacekeeper comes. He starts pulling them out, but I manage to say, "Gale will bring game every day, he'll expect a small trade of herbs or string. You can survive off that and money made from Lady's milk!"

"We know, we love you Bay!" my mother manages to say.

The door slams, making a breeze that rustles my hair some.

"I love you too." I whisper.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Hello everyone! Thanks again for the feedback and subscriptions! You're all awesome! Sorry I'm uploading it so late, I had a scare today. I went on a city funded trip to Japan with 15 other kids and 4 chaperones about 3 weeks ago. We grew close to the chaperones, they practically became our parents. Today on the news, we heard a council womens husband had been killed in a car accident. Two of the chaperones on the trip were married, the woman being a council women. They didn't release the name, so I was scared to death it was the chaperone. We went online, the name was released, and it was not him. I'm so relieved. Well, thanks for listening to my rambling. Love you guys, and enjoy :)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games or anything affiliated with it.**

The walk to the train was drug-out and terrible. Peeta had been crying, and didn't try to make it look he wasn't. I wanted to talk some sense into him, tell him if he didn't stop he would be a direct target for the Careers. But I didn't, I kept walking, walking past the reporters that couldn't stop talking about my volunteering. I rolled my eyes; I can't believe this is their entertainment.

We stepped onto the train, and I almost stopped in my tracks at what I was seeing. Plush carpets, velvet furniture, and foods I've never seen before. It was so extravagant, and I hated it.

Effie cleared her throat and said, "Go ahead and feel free to make yourself comfortable, I'll be in the powder room," then waddled off. I watched her go then turned to look at the room again. It's hard to believe there are more compartments just like this. I walked over to a plush chair and sat down in it, leaning back my head and closing my eyes. This day had been so long, it felt like yesterday Gale and I had been hunting when it was just this morning. What was today and what was actually yesterday?

I opened my eyes slightly as I heard the sound of someone taking a seat in the chair next to mine. Peeta.

"I hope you don't mind if I sit here."

I looked at his deep blue eyes, getting lost in them. His face was so beautiful, curled blond hair hanging right above his eyes, sea blue eyes, and full lips. Why were we stuck in this problem? Why was he? Doing this would be so much easier if someone else was reaped instead of him.

He seemed to know what was happening, and searched my eyes for some sign of emotion. I turned and looked out the train window. "No, I don't mind."

There was a pause, when he said, "You know, when you volunteered, all I could think about was the bread."

I turned back to him. This time, it looked like he was the one getting lost in my eyes.

"I kept thinking, I tried so hard to keep her alive, and now what's going to happen," he paused, smiled, then continued, "But then my name was called, so I knew you'd have a good chance of making it home."

What was he saying? A good chance of me making it home? He's supposed to be trying to make it home. Then it hits me. He was going to protect me, and then when it came to it, I'd have to kill him. And I'd go home.

I bit my lip, tears threatening to pour down my face. I couldn't kill him. Not if my life depended on it, which in this case, it would.

I looked down as a tear fell. I wouldn't let him see me this way, so in love with him, unless he felt the same way.

"Bay, I didn't mean to-"

I shook my head, "I'm fine. I'll be in my room."

I stood and headed in the direction of the compartment, when Peeta said, "O-Ok. See you at breakfast?"

I stopped. Without turning around I answered, "Yeah, see you at breakfast."

When I managed to make it to my bedroom, I stood in front of the mirror. My hair was down. That's strange; I could have sworn it was up at the reaping. I must have taken it down before visitors came. I pulled it back into a braid and searched through the piles and piles of clothes until I just settled for sleeping in my underwear.

It was still really early to be going to sleep, probably about 3 hours until sunset, but it felt like I hadn't slept in days. But when I got in bed, sleep didn't come. All I could think about was Peeta. I couldn't let him die. If he died, I'd always be in the arena, trying to think my way out. I'd go crazy.

And then there's Prim. I promised her I would try to win. But that was before I knew Peeta wanted to die for me. From me.

But why did he want to protect me? Was it because he feels it would have been a waste of bread and dignity if he let me die after saving me from starvation? Was it because he knew my family needed me?

And then I realized. Was it because he loved me, too?

Butterflies flew in my stomach. Peeta loving me back. This was something I had never thought possible. But there had been a reason for him to throw me that bread, and maybe that was it.

I shook my head. I'll never know why. I mean, we'll be thrown into a fight to the death in a matter of time now, and confessing your love for someone would probably be the least of your worries at this point.

I sighed and rolled over. Why did this have to happen? And then I remembered. The Capitol.

The Capitol, where everything is fun and games. Endless food, unlimited clothes, and good treatment by all. Oh, and let's not forget that annual televised fight to the death to look forward to.

I clenched my teeth. The Capitol, how different it was to District 12. We were kept safe from outside predators by a fence that was supposed to be electrified 24/7, but it was usually never on. That was probably the only thing the Capitol and District 12 had in common, being protected in some way.

I scoffed. District 12, where you can starve to death in safety.

I closed my eyes and hoped sleep would come at some point, but I eventually ended up laying there, looking out the window. The sun had just set.

I groaned and put my hands on my face.

I'll never get any sleep.

I got back up. I rummaged through the drawers again and settled on a grey tank top and sweat pants.

I walked out into the hallway, unsure of where I was going. I ended up walking to the living quarters. As I stepped into the compartment, I was stopped by the sight of Peeta.

I guess he heard me come in, because he turned his head.

He smiled, "Hey couldn't sleep?"

I smiled back, his smile was contagious. "No," I said with a shake of my head. I nodded towards the television, "Reaping?"

He turned back towards the television and nodded. "Yeah, trying to get a good look at our competition."

This boy, he was already fighting for his life. He was fighting for both of our lives.

I walked over to the couch he was sitting on and sat on the end opposite of his. But why?

He looked back at me when I sat down. "I'm not going to bite, you know," he said.

I smirked and scooted to the center of the couch.

We sat there watching the reapings, listening to the commentators ramble on and on about who looks promising. And then it cuts to District 12's reaping.

I watch as Effie pulls Prim's name out. When she calls out her name, I look like a crazed animal.

"I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute!" I screamed. I said it so loud; seemingly afraid they wouldn't hear me and haul Prim off. But they heard me, everyone did.

I stood on stage, stiff. I had no emotion on my face. Good, I thought. I won't seem weak. Then Peeta's name was called. That's when my face changed. It went starch white, and it looked like I couldn't get enough air in one breath.

The thing that caught my eye was when we shook hands. I was looking down the whole time, watching our hands as they shook. Then, we he gave a reassuring squeeze, I looked up at him. Our eyes locked, and then we were led into the Justice Building.

Oh no, I thought. Were the people watching going to notice? See there's a connection between me and him?

Almost on cue, one of the commentators said, "Oh. It seems we have a friendship between two tributes."

A second one piped up and said, "Not the first time we've seen that before."

I leaned forward, grabbed the remote and shut the TV off.

I sat there, staring at the black screen. I saw Peeta looking at me from the corner of my eye, but I wasn't going to look at him. I knew if I did I would start crying and never be able to stop.

And then he does something unexpected. He scoots next to me and grabs my hand. I look at him in surprise. "It's going to be OK, Bay. I promise."

He pulled me into a hug, and I didn't refuse. I buried my head in the crook of his shoulder and cried, cried for minutes, hours. The whole time, he sat there slowly rubbing my back, whispering words of comfort.

After what seemed like forever, I stopped. I felt like I had dried all my tears out. I sat entangled in his arms while he played with my hair. It had come undone again, I guess while I was crying.

I sniffed and slowly closed my eyes. "You look tired." Peeta whispered. I nodded my head. He picked me up and started walking. I lay limp in his arms, letting him take me wherever he was going.

He stopped at my door and opened it. He walked over to my bed, pulled back the blankets, and lay me down. I closed my eyes as he pulled the blankets over me. "Goodnight, Bay," he whispered.

I opened my eyes and grabbed his hand before he left. He looked back at me. "Thank you."

He smiled softly and nodded. I let go and watched him leave. I curled up into a ball, feeling like I had never slept a day in my life, and drifted off to sleep.

I woke to Effie's rapping on the door followed by "Up, up, up! It's going to be a big, big, big, day!" I groaned and buried my face in my pillow. "I'll be out in a minute Effie."

"OK dearie! Don't be late for breakfast!"

I waited to get up until the clicking reached the end of the hall. I pulled the blankets off and stood there. Today we reach the Capitol. Oh yeah, and don't forget the tribute parade. I sighed at the thought of the prep team and the stylist. They would be plucking and pulling at every little 'imperfection' in a matter of hours.

I found a dark green long-sleeved shirt and dark pants. After closer inspection, I noticed the pants looked almost exactly like my hunting pants. They fit like them, too. I braided my hair back and pulled on my boots and started toward the door, when a familiar glint caught my eye. I looked to where it was coming from and saw the Mockingjay pin sitting on the dresser. I walked over to it and picked it up. I promised Madge I would wear it.

I pinned it to my shirt, where it matched very well.

I didn't have much trouble finding the dining compartment, you could hear Haymitch's rambling when you stepped into the hall. I walked in and sat next to Peeta, who was sitting across from Haymitch. As I scooted in I looked at Peeta and mouthed drunk? He smirked and nodded, mouthing back definitely.

I rolled my eyes at the surprising thought of Haymitch drunk.

Right when I sat down, I was served a plate filled with eggs, ham, bacon, and rolls. I stuffed my face with it while still trying to look like I wasn't raised by wolves. I stopped when I saw Peeta looking at me. I swallowed the eggs and said, "What?" He laughed and said, "Nothing, just make sure you don't eat too much."

He was right. This food was so rich compared to our food back home. If I didn't slow down I would be puking all over my tribute parade outfit.

I took my last bite of food and picked up the cup I was given. I stopped before I took a sip. It wasn't like any drink I had seen before. It had a light brown color and was thick. "They call it hot chocolate," Peeta said. I looked at him. "Try it," he said, dipping a roll in his cup.

I looked at it again. I took a sip, and then another, and drank it until I ran out. It was so rich and creamy, it was someone actually melted chocolate and put it in a cup. I sat back and held my stomach. I've never felt this full in my whole life, but it wasn't the good kind of full. It was the kind of full that made you want to puke half of your meal so you didn't feel like if you moved too fast your stomach would burst. But I guess it's for the better, I would need some extra padding before I went into the arena.

I watched as Haymitch poured spirits into his coffee. There was probably more liquor in that now than coffee.

"You know, being drunk while trying to mentor is not the best option."

He looked up at me, "What's the point of being a mentor at this point."

Peeta interjected, "The point is to give advice so we'll have a chance."

"Here's some advice. Stay alive." He started to cackle. Peeta clenched his teeth, leaned forward, and knocked Haymitch's spirits onto the floor, which resulted in a punch to the jaw.

Anger surged through me. I grabbed my butter knife and stabbed it into the table, in between two of his fingers. Haymitch froze and looked at me. Effie gasped.

"Well look at this," Haymitch said slowly, "Do we actually have a pair of fighters this year?"

I gritted my teeth while Peeta got up off the floor to grab some ice. "Don't put ice on it. It'll make you look tough."

"But we're not supposed to be fighting before the Games."

"Well you're also not supposed to be trained unless you were reaped." The Careers. That's who he was talking about.

"Is there anything else you can do with that knife?" He nodded at the butter knife stuck in the table. I grabbed it and threw it at the wall. I wasn't meaning for it, but it stuck in the seam between two wood panels, making it seem like I was better than I really was.

Haymitch furrowed his brow. "Stand right there, I want to get a good look at the both of you."

I was reluctant, but did it anyway. I stood there as he looked us over. I didn't like him looking at me, and felt like punching him when he did. "Well, not the best I've seen, but you've got a chance." I rolled my eyes.

"Tell you what, I'll stay sober long enough to train you. But when you get in that arena, you cannot be stupid. Got that?" Haymitch eyed me. I scoffed. Being stupid in the arena was not an option for me at this point.

"Sounds good to me," Peeta said. He looked to me. I looked at him and sighed.

"Yeah, OK."

"Wonderful," Haymitch said sarcastically. "And here's another piece of advice sweetheart," he said, sitting back down, "to get sponsors, you have to be appealing."

I narrowed my eyes. "So how'd you survive if that's all it took?"

"Luck. Which is exactly what you'll need if you want to make it out alive."

I stormed out of the compartment. I have skill, which is the only thing I'll need. Haymitch will realize that sooner or later.

I ended up in the living quarters. I plopped myself down in a chair. I picked up a pillow and threw it. I grabbed another one and screamed into it. I sat there, my face in a pillow, wondering how this all happened.

Why Prim, out of all those thousands of names, why Prim's?

And why Peeta's?

This boy I cared so much for was suddenly a person I would have to kill in a matter of days.

Then I realized something. What if I was being blinded by my love for him? What if this is his plan? Gain my trust, become allies, then kill me when the right moment presented itself.

Then suddenly, Peeta became my enemy. I wouldn't go near him in the Games, because as much as I despised him now, I would still not be able to kill him, the only boy I've ever loved. I'd have to let someone else pick him off.

The door opens and I hear footsteps.

Oh God, please don't let it be Haymitch.

"Hey."

Even worse. Peeta.


	4. Story holdoff

I'm terribly sorry everyone for putting off this story. My schedule has been extremely busy lately, and with it came a REALLY bad case of writer's block. But, I assure you I do not plan on putting off this story permanently. What I do plan on doing is is putting off continuing the story until mid-September. My plans will not be as crammed and I will likely have much more time and inspiration to write.

I just wanted to let you all know. Thank you all for the support and helpful reviews. I'm sorry I haven't let you all know sooner. But for the meantime, stay tuned

Thank you.


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